


"Love Me Please"

by CreativeHowl



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Stagedorks, Unrequited Love, boyf riends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeHowl/pseuds/CreativeHowl
Summary: "Love me. Love me, please, or break my heart."- "This Had Better Come to a Stop", Falsettos"Jeremy, please!" Michael sobbed uncontrollably, latching onto his arm and attempting to pull him closer. Jeremy only looked down, shedding a few tears with a clear frown on his face."Just...tell me you love me. It doesn't even have to be the truth anymore, Jeremy!"Silence."P-please...I don't want to die..." He cried, pulling Jeremy closer."I'm sorry, Micah, I just... I can't lie to you."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea when George Salazar tweeted about Michael and Jeremy just being friends, and as someone who ships both Boyf Riends and Stagedorks, I thought this was an angsty medium.

Flowers fell rapidly from Michael's mouth the longer he stayed alone in that dammed hospital room, clutching his stomach. His lungs hurt. His head hurt. His stomach hurt. Everything hurt. He could tell right then that this experience wasn't going to end the way he wished. 

A nurse had been explaining Michael's fatal disease to the dumbfounded Jeremy, in the waiting room. Michael had refused to tell the nurses who the cause of hanahaki was, since he was sitting right out there in those tiny plastic chairs.

Michael hid the small flowers under the thin blanket given to him once Jere,y walked in the room. It was clear that he'd been crying. That wasn't a good sign, he thought. Jeremy sat on the bed, looking down at the floor.

"Who is it?"

Michael didn't respond.

"Micha, who did this to you?!"

There still wasn't a response for a long while, as the sun set. Jeremy had given up on asking, until Michael coughed up another small flower and hid it. Afterwards, he spoke.

"You're to blame, Jeremy. This is...this is all your fault" he cried.

Jeremy's eyes widened as he realized. Fuck, Christine! Of course it was him!

"M-Michael, I..."

Mell leaned forward on the bed, hopelessly expecting an 'I love you too'. But there wasn't a reply. Jeremy broke off his sentence, crying.

Once Michael knew he wasn't going to finish the sentence, he leaned back to laying down on the bed. "I hate you."

"Clearly, you don't" Jeremy sniffled

"I  _hate_ you" Michael repeated, sobbing.

"Why don't you just get the surgery? Surely it couldn't be that important, losing your feelings for me. Especially when..."  _when they aren't returned._

"But I want to love you, Jeremy. And I want you to love me. Can't you see that?! Can't you just stop ignoring me for Christine?!"

"I'm not ignoring you, Michael" he argued.

"Not  _anymore_ " Michael huffed, crossing his arms.

"That was  _one time, Michael._ And I thought apologized already..."

"One time that lasted months. You couldn't see me for  _months_."

"That wasn't my fault" Jeremy cried.

"I'm pretty sure it was. I'm pretty sure you're the one to tell  _it_ to remove me, right in front of my fucking face..." Michael sobbed.

"Please, let's stop talking about that."

There was a long, awkward silence as the two boys cried.

"I'm too young to die, Jer. All the things I never did..."

Jeremy didn't respond.

"Jeremy, please!" Michael sobbed uncontrollably, latching onto his arm and attempting to pull him closer. Jeremy only looked down, shedding a few tears with a clear frown on his face.

"Just...tell me you love me. It doesn't even have to be the truth anymore, Jeremy!"

Silence. 

"P-please...I don't want to die..." He cried, pulling Jeremy closer.

"I'm sorry, Micah, I just...I can't lie to you." 

Michael actually screamed, lunging forward to wrap his arms around Jeremy, chanting a broken "love me, goddammit" over and over under his breath.

Jeremy finally moved, pushing Michael back to lay on the bed, standing and biting his lip before yelling. "I can't love you, Michael! I can't!"

It was like how he was before, with the SQUIP. Cold. Uncaring. Unempathetic. He stormed out of the room, sobbing and whispering a soft "I love Christine" before closing the door behind him.

Michael's eyes were wide in horror. His heart monitor started slowing, and he could physically feel stems growing and taking root in his lungs. He coughed up flowers and blood, the stems in his lungs tearing through the muscles and causing him to drown in his own blood.

The beeps that once filled the room fell flat.

What Michael would never get to know and react to, was that resting in the trashcan of the white hospital bathroom was an empty bottle of mountain dew.


	2. Chapter 2

_What Michael would never get to know and react to, was that resting in the trashcan of the white hospital bathroom was an empty bottle of mountain dew._

Jeremy had walked out on his best friend  _again._ But he didn't regret his decision one bit. If the SQUIP (who gave him absolute hell for him turning it off in the first place) hadn't made him be totally brutally honest with Michael, the real Jer would've lied and said he loved him. Just seeing Michael sob like that was an image he'd never get out of his head.

_Don't worry about him. That's what got you into this in the first place._

He sighed and nodded, almost feeling calm until he saw a various amount of nurses rush into a hospital room. Michael's hospital room. His eyes widened in horror, turning to the blue static-y figure sitting in the small chair next to him. 

_Yes. He died February 14th, 3:07 pm EDT._

Jeremy didn't have to look at his watch or the clock in the hallway to know that wasn't even five minutes ago, tears already streaming from his face yet again. He got up, muttering a soft and determined "I have to get in there" as he made his way to the room.

_No. Stop!_

Jeremy felt an intense shock break through him, bringing him to his hands and knees and he cried out in pain.

_There's nothing you can do, Jeremy. He's already dead._

Jeremy sobbed on the floor, and a nurse walked over to check if he was okay. He nodded and brushed it off as cramps, and the woman reluctantly walked away.

"I want to see him..." Jeremy cried once the nurse was far away.

_Have you forgotten completely about telepathy? Oh, well then. I have surveillance footage of him just after you left, if that is an alternative._

Jeremy never liked alternatives, but this would have to do. The SQUIP read his mind, and played the clips in his head so Jeremy could see. It was like a computer screen with no actual computer around it was facing Jeremy, or like a giant tv in a movie theater, but with a tint of blue around its glitchy edges.

Jeremy could spot his own foot leaving the room, but what was more heartbreaking was the face of absolute shock and sorrow on Michael's face. If he was there to see Michael during about half of Jake's Halloween party, he would've looked very similar to this.

Gratefully, Jeremy couldn't hear a thing. The SQUIP could, naturally, but the sound was too quiet for human ears. Jeremy didn't have to go through the absolute agony of listening to the heart monitor gradually slow, or the physical snap you would've heard at the very moment of literal heartbreak. Lungs, too, but mostly the heart. All he could see was Michael, writhing in pain and crying as blood trickled down his chin. Reading lips, Jeremy could definitely tell he was calling out Jer's name. God, he felt fucking terrible. He couldnt watch as the blood filled more and more of Michael's mouth, tears fogging his sight incredibly. Knowing this, the SQUIP got rid of the holographic video, and smirked.

_Did you see what you wanted?_

Jeremy hesitated, then quickly got up and sprinted to Michael's hospital room, ignoring pangs of shock after shock. He swung open the door, and he was too late. The nurses were gone, and so was Michael. The only trace of him was a fee dots of fresh blood on the white hospital bed and a red hoodie on a nearby chair.

Jeremy took the hoodie in his hands, burying his face into the fabric and screaming. It smelled like Michael. It felt like Michael. The real Michael, not the one who was replaced with a husk, reduced to a living zombie because of a fatal disease. 

_When will you ever listen to me, Heere?_

"Never" Jeremy hissed, muffled by the hoodie in his face.


End file.
